A Banquet of Blood and Pleasure
by VioletWylde
Summary: Normal, healthy relationships have problems like arguing over who did the dishes last. Normal, healthy relationships are lived in the light of day. Normal, healthy relationships are boring. Our relationship is neither healthy nor normal. It isn't perfect. But I couldn't live without it... in fact I would willingly die for it. Sasunaru. AU. M for language and lemons.


**Summary: Normal, healthy relationships have problems like forgetting to pick up milk on the way home or arguing over who did the dishes last. Normal, healthy relationships are lived in the light of day. Normal, healthy relationships are boring. Our relationship is neither healthy nor normal. It isn't perfect. But I couldn't live without it... in fact I would willingly die for it. Sasunaru. AU. M for language and lemons.**

**A/N: While I am still cultivating the plot to my next fic, I thought I would offer this little one shot. It's a new theme for me and while it may not be exceptionally original, it was fun. Any and all comments, critiques and criticism are welcome - this is meant to be a bit of a learning piece for me while I ruminate. **

**Warnings: This fic contains yaoi... any pretty much nothing but yaoi. Also: blood play and choking. You've been warned.**

**Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Naruto... or the Red Cross.**

* * *

I fantasize about him, on the nights I know he won't show. I think about his pallid face and the way the moonlight washes it in an ethereal glow - and I touch myself. I imagine his fingers around my neck, caressing my pulse - and I beat off furiously.

_Why__?_ Why do I handle myself with such violent strokes? Is it because I feel weak? I am so weak without him... and weaker still when I am with him. I'm weak under the weight of my longing to be with him. To _truly_ be with with him. And when I ask and he refuses me... I am too weak to demand.

My fist is moving quickly now. Up and down my shaft, fast and hard. Firm strokes as I feel my balls tighten. My mind is filled with images coated in crimson.

I cry out into the darkness, "Take me!" My eyes clench shut and my voice is resolved even as I stammer, "M-make me... Ahh!"

I'm surprised by the intensity of my orgasm. A gush of release, spurts in heavy pulses, and I double over. Panting, fist tight around my cock, I feel the warm, sticky residue of my weakness roll lazily over my knuckles.

I don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight.

* * *

I'm so thankful to work such a menial desk job. The repetitive nature means I can surf through the day, even if I'm barely conscious. Today, I imagine, will be just like yesterday... and tomorrow.

My desk is positioned outside an office, whose door is decorated with a placard that reads "Regional Donation Coordinator". My full title, if I ever cared to brag, is Assistant to the Regional Donation Coordinator. For the Red Cross. The irony is not lost on me.

My eyes are open, directed somewhere towards my computer screen. I don't know how long I've been sitting here, just staring. I stopped hearing the steady tick of the clock long ago.

Suddenly there is something in front of me, moving rapidly. I blink and realize it's a hand. I turn abruptly to find Delores smiling at me.

She's a portly woman with gold, wire-frame glasses that accent her round face. Her ashy brown hair, which is alway pulled back, is up in a ponytail today. _Must __be __feeling __spunky_.

"Sorry," I chirp, trying to disguise my fatigue, "I was in the zone."

Her eyes flick over to my computer and a see a frown furrow her brow. I don't need to look to know the reason - there is nothing on my computer except the default blue desktop. It doesn't matter. She's smiling again and waving a folder.

"We've got some shortages." She hands me the file, "I need you on the horn today."

I take the folder and smile, "I'm on it."

She leaves and I turn back to my desk. My heart begins to pound as I flip through the spreadsheets. **Canter ****County****: ****A ****negative ****and ****AB ****positive****. ****Shiloh ****County****: ****A ****negative****. ****Milton ****County****: ...**

_Oh __God__... __please__._ I close my eyes and inhale deeply, letting it out in a slow and steady whoosh.

**Milton ****County****: ****O ****negative****, ****O ****positive ****and** - I feel my stomach flip - **B ****negative****. **_Fuck__, __yes__!_ My stomach flips again, followed by other stirrings further down that cause me to squirm in my seat.

I have one of the more rare blood types: only about two percent of the population is B negative. Pathogen free and iron rich, I'm a perfect candidate for donation. I'm also told it's quite delicious. I attribute that to my diet - lots of red meat and dark greens... whole grains and such.

I can't imagine how I am going to get through this day. I'm vibrating with nervous excitement, knowing that this shortage can only mean a visit from _him_ is only a few hours away. I manage to complete my task in record time and I peek into Delores' office.

"H-hey," my voice is shaking, "I finished the calls."

"Thanks, Naruto," she looks up from her computer and her expression changes from polite to concerned, "You don't look so well."

I bow my head, "I'm feeling a little under the weather."

In truth, my pulse hasn't settled since I opened that file. There is sweat beading on my brow and I'm losing the battle with the chubby in my pants. All told, I'm in no condition to work.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off?" Delores says with pity in her eyes, "Get some rest."

I nod appreciatively, "Thanks."

* * *

It's a miracle that I get home in one piece. I ran a red light and nearly missed my exit, having to cut across two lanes on the expressway to catch it.

I don't know why I am so excited to get home, he won't come to me for hours yet. Really I am just expediting my torture. Once I get home all I can do is wait... anxiously wait for night to fall. Wait for the shroud of darkness that always precedes him.

"Goddamn it," I growl as I fumble with my keys.

I enter my apartment in a rush, as if being chased, and lean against the door. I suddenly feel smothered, I can't breath. My trembling hands clutch at my shirt as I struggle to regain control.

"Get ahold of yourself, Naruto," I whisper to myself.

But I can't calm down. Anticipation is crawling through me, chewing out my insides, leaving me hollow. Leaving me with the need to be filled.

"Oh, God."

It's been so long. Longer than ever before. If there is nothing else I can say about him, it's that he's a creature of habit. He refuses to feed on anything except B negative blood and if he can't get it through legitimate channels - like the county blood bank - he will seek me out. It's been like this for years. But it's never been this long.

Maybe he's been traveling, finding new sources. This explanation does little to conciliate me. I don't like the idea of him purposefully seeking an alternative to our visits. In fact, I don't like that he even bothers with the blood banks. If I had it my way, there would be only me. Me and him.

A torrent of memories bursts forth in my mind. Images flash before my eyes. Some are innocuous - the curvature of lips as they stretch over teeth. Others are more explicit - hands moving over naked flesh, tantalizing.

I can't stop the searing blood from pooling in my dick, but the thought of touching myself is nauseating. I must have jacked off five times last night; anymore and it's going to become an exercise in self-harm.

I move through my apartment on shaky legs and manage to make it to the bathroom. I turn the shower to cold and quickly strip. My cock is angry, swollen and a vicious shade of red.

When I step into the shower, the frigid stream hits my back like a thousand icy fingers caressing my overheated flesh. I come immediately. The force is enough to make me reach out and steady myself against the cool tile walls. I look down and watch as my dick, standing proud against my lower abdomen, sways and pulses. I watch as thick streams fly up, twist in the air and fall - landing on my stomach, feet and tub floor. The evidence is quickly washed away.

Now, feeling somewhat relieved, I turn the water to warm and bathe properly. I take time to clean _thoroughly_, the way I know he likes; I squat down in the tub and use the shower head to wash out the deepest recesses. I shave... everything.

I slip on a pair of pajama bottoms and consider myself adequately dressed. By the time I leave the bathroom, the sun has moved past its zenith and is slowly descending into the West. But I still have hours left to wait. It's excruciating.

I hate that it's been this long. And that I have been reduced to this shell of a man. I used to be boisterous... gregarious. I used to have aspirations - dreams that reached beyond him.

There was once a time when I would see him every day. Every _day_. In class, then around campus. Soon we met at cafes and restaurants. And eventually our meetings would drag into the night. Our bodies would drag across each other.

Then, one day, he was gone. No explanation, no goodbye. Just vanished. When I did see him again, months later... it was only at night.

Things changed then. After he'd changed. Where before we had simply indulged ourselves in each other, now there was an insatiable _hunger_. And it drove us mad. It drove us together and it drove us apart.

I became blinded by the intensity of my desire for him. Nothing else seemed to matter any more. I rarely left the dark sanctuary of my apartment, where he occupied my bed and heart and every thought.

It was raining the night he left me. Sheets of water pounded on my windows as I fell to my knees and begged for him to stay. He said he couldn't be responsible for ruining my life. He refused to sit back and watch as I abandoned friends, family, school and work. All so I could be with him. I clawed at his legs as he walked away.

But the force between us - the volatile magnetism that came to define our relationship - couldn't be ignored. Even by a being as powerful as him. He returned, but on a condition: we must only allow ourselves brief tastes - a night, two at the most. For the sake of our sanity.

But, especially lately, I have begun to think that it's all a lie. An illusion we have created in attempt to maintain a status quo that neither of us want. I'm tired of this illusion.

I'm tired of living this life. It isn't a real life. And if I'm not truly living...

I've been reminiscing and lost track of time. I look out the window and see the clouds stained in beautiful pinks and oranges. The sun is setting. A part of me wishes this will be the last sunset I ever see.

I start to close the drapes. It's like a ritual. I go around my apartment and pull thick velvet curtains over every window. I start in the kitchen and slowly work my way back to my bedroom. By the time I'm done there are only faint slivers of sunlight penetrating the space. I sit on the edge of my bed and watch these swatches shift from gold to silver as the last rays of the sun are consumed by nightfall.

My eyes move around the space, adjusting to the darkness. I catch my reflection in the mirror above my dresser and move to it. I can just barely make out the faint glimmer blond in my hair; normally a bright and sunny shade, in this dim light it is greatly subdued. The same can be said for my eyes. The vibrant cobalt that shines in the day is diminished in this twilight. Peering into the mirror, I open my mouth and examine my teeth. I trace the surface of my incisors with the pad of my finger, then poke the tip of my canine.

"Having fun?"

I spin around at the sound of that sultry timbre. I don't have time to retort before he is pressed against me, his preternatural speed bringing him across the room in the blink of an eye. I should be used to this by now, but I still gasp as his cold breath washes across my face.

I take a moment to swallow the lump in my throat. My eyes travel over his face - the familiar contours of his high cheek bones, the sharp bridge of his nose and sculpted lips. I can't look away from his mouth, I know how soft it is... and how hard it kisses.

These thoughts aren't helping in my futile attempts at control. Still staring, I lick my lips.

The corner of his mouth curls up in a smirk, "You reek of lust. I could smell it from two blocks away."

The movement of his lips as he formed these words broke me out of my trance. My eyes move up to his. In life his eyes were dark, pitch black; but now those midnight pools are laced with glowing veins of color. These delicate luminescent threads shift with his mood. At the moment they are a bright red - the intense shade that only accompanies a fierce hunger. And not just for blood.

I finally respond, "It's been a while."

"Oh? How long?" He leans in, nudging my cheek with his nose.

I fight the tremble in my voice, "Too long."

"How long, Naruto?"

"Seven months, three weeks and two days."

"That is a long time," he murmurs against my skin.

He nuzzles in deeper and I turn my head to accommodate. I feel his hands travel up my arms on their way to my head. He grips my chin in one hand and tilts my head to the side with the other. I am totally exposed... and I love it.

His cool lips slide down, over my jaw and stop on my quickened pulse. His tongue peaks out and prods at the thrumming flesh. He groans and laps again. His grip on my chin tightens and he clutches at my hair. I suck in a breath and hold it in anticipation.

He opens his mouth wider and traces his teeth against the moistened skin. The sharp points of his canines scrape against my throat. It's a familiar caress, as he savors the gift he is about to receive.

The pierce never fails to surprise me and I jerk in spite of myself. He is swift and, though it seems preposterous, gentle. The length of his fangs sink into my neck, penetrating just deep enough to puncture my carotid artery. He manages to control himself, even though I can feel him quaking with excitement.

He takes a long draw, pulling the blood out of me and into his mouth. My knees go weak and I groan. My mind is swimming as a rush of endorphins flood my body.

Every breath seems to escape as a moan, but I manage to form a quiet, "Sasuke..."

After a moment he pulls back. He is breathing roughly, his lips stained in my blood, "Are you okay?"

I can only manage a nod. He studies me for a moment, then reapplies his mouth to my neck, sucking hard. My eyes flutter closed - I'm losing myself with each strong pull. I grab his arms to steady myself... I'm getting weaker by the second. My heart is pumping harder, trying in vain to send blood to my hazy brain - but it's only feeding Sasuke faster.

He must have noticed I was at my limit - probably felt the weak pulse offering him less and less - and releases me. I collapse against his chest and feel him pick me up effortlessly and carry me to the bed. He lays me down and strokes my cheek reverently. Once again Sasuke leans into my neck and softly licks my wounds - cleaning the blood from my skin and healing the punctures. It will be hours before I will regain the strength necessary to welcome him properly.

* * *

When I wake up, I find myself tucked into my sheets - naked. There is a soft flickering light illuminating the room and my eyes move from candle to candle until landing on Sasuke as he lays by my side. I offer him a wan smile and blink lazily.

He reaches out and brushes his knuckles along my cheeks, "I'm sorry. I took too much."

I nuzzle into his hand, "I'm fine."

There is still concern in his eyes - now highlighted by an amber that reflects the golden light of the candles. His hand is warmer as it strokes my skin. In fact, his face contains the slightest flush of color. It's my blood, flowing through him, giving his flesh these characteristics; supplying him with these lost features of his humanity.

"I've missed you," I murmur, turning closer to him.

He stops stroking my cheek and props himself up further, leaning into me. "I know."

My eyes drop. I don't know what I expected him to say. That he missed me too? He isn't one for such sentiment. And I know that. But he does run his thumb across my lower lip and lean down to place a soft, chaste kiss on my mouth. It is, perhaps, the closest I am going to get.

I sigh and close my eyes. My mind drifts and soon I am asleep. When I wake again, it's drowsily, and I have no idea how long I have been out. My gaze falls on Sasuke and I immediately notice his lack of attire.

He is lying prone on the mattress, arms tucked under his head, watching me as my eyes rake up and down his naked frame. The light dances over his pale skin, bathing his body in shifting gold and soft shadows. His back is a smooth, subtle arch that swells into firm buttocks. His thighs are strong. Even the backs of his knees beckon to me.

"There's that smell again," he says playfully.

I only smirk in response. He knows what to do to slake my lust. And he sets about doing just that.

He moves over me, pulling down the sheet and exposing me to the air. I shudder as the cool draft hits my skin, but nevertheless, I spread out for him. Offering myself for his enjoyment.

Getting on all fours, Sasuke begins his exploration of my body at my stomach where he leans down and begins to kiss me. His hands run along my chest and down my sides as his mouth moves from my navel to my ribs. His lips caress each hill and valley, sending sparks through my skin and causing me to twitch and squirm.

Each light kiss spears through me, lances me with electric desire, and soon I am aching for more. I bite my lip and arch into his delicate touches. A groan rumbles in my throat.

He moves up my chest, tracing his tongue along my collarbone and neck. Soon his eyes are staring into mine, telling me to be patient, promising me that I won't be disappointed. They don't close as he presses his lips to mine. He keeps staring, and I see the lace in his irises turn from gold to scarlet.

He pushes his tongue into my mouth and my eyelids flutter closed as I receive him. Sasuke tastes faintly metallic; it's a familiar, comforting flavor. The feel of his soft lips grinding against mine and the taste of his tongue as it dances in my mouth... it's too much. I release something between a deep sigh and a moan as I grab his shoulders and pull him towards me.

I want his body stretched out against mine. I want to feel his desire. His arousal. He settles down against me, still ravaging my mouth, and there it is - pressing against my pelvis, rock hard and so warm.

My hands slide down his back, tickling his spine along the way, and grab onto the firm globes of his ass. I force him to grind against me and I mimic the action with my own rolling hips. Soon we lose all awareness and it is just our bodies moving in tandem.

This is bliss; the way our bodies move purely out of need - seeking sensation to quell the aching desire deep inside. Even fucking has a purpose - a final goal. This will serve us nothing but to stoke the flames of our lust until we can longer stay separated. Then we will come together with such force and longing, that nothing else - no other worldly sensation - will compare. But for now, I have his tongue in my mouth and his dick sliding against mine - and that is bliss.

I break from the kiss, panting heavily, "Sas...ahh...Sasuke."

"Mmm hmmm," he hums in response, kissing along my jaw.

I rock up against him harder, rubbing my aching length against his with more urgency. The crests of our cockheads catch on one another and I groan appreciatively. There is a sudden rush of precum leaking profusely from my slit. It rolls down my shaft and lubricates our movement, creating a delicious gliding sensation.

Sasuke pulls back abruptly and moves back down my body, trailing kisses along the way. He buries his head between my legs, dragging his tongue behind my sac and suckling my balls. His teeth scrape lightly against the wrinkled skin and I claw at the sheets in response. My back arches off the mattress and I cry out.

He moves up my shaft, laving the length with his tongue. His hands are on my hips, holding them down as they jerk erratically. His mouth hovers just above the head of my dick, tantalizingly close. I can feel his breath beating down on the flesh and I squirm in vain.

He inhales deeply and sighs, "Jesus, Naruto." He looks up at me with those dark eyes, complete with shimmering fissures of red, "I don't think you've ever smelled this desperate."

I look away embarrassed, then glance back when I feel his tongue glide against my dick, probing my slit with languid flicks. He takes a moment to savor my precum, rubbing his tongue along his palate, and shuddering.

"You taste...lewd." He laps again, delving deeper with the tip of his tongue, "Delicious."

With that he consumes me. His mouth slides over my head and along my shaft, lips rubbing firmly up and down with each bob of his head. He forms a tight seal and begins to suck, pulling my length to the back of this throat.

It takes an incredible amount of trust to allow somebody of his... disposition... to suck my dick. I have experienced the repercussions of his bloodlust, when he wasn't able to maintain control. But I card my fingers through his hair and give a tug to encourage him to suck harder. The risk amplifies the pleasure.

I can feel the flat of his tongue rubbing along my length as he bobs rapaciously and I know that each slurping suck is as gluttonous as it is exquisite. For Sasuke, giving me head isn't a selfless act. He isn't really interested in causing pleasure... that's simply a fortunate side effect. What he actually cares about, is sucking down every last ounce of my load.

He explained this little secret some time ago. While my semen cannot nourish him, it does posses a flavor - an essence - that can't compare to the minerally taste of blood. It's decadent and very near addictive.

And so, he reaches down and plays with my balls while he swirls his tongue round and round my shaft. His fingers slip past my taint and brush against my hole, playfully nudging. Automatically, my legs spread wider - inviting him to probe deeper. But he doesn't. He continues to tease me as he takes me fully into his mouth once again.

There's a coil tightening in my loins, a pressure building exponentially in my sac. I try to fight it, to hold on to the sensation of bliss tearing through me - but it's useless. I croak out a weak cry of release and he grabs my shaft firmly; he greedily swallows each pulse. And when all that remains is a slow drizzle, he suckles the tip. He quite literally sucks me dry, not wasting a drop.

When my dick is a limp shadow of its former tumescence, he collapses at my side. He is breathing heavily, licking his lips reverently. It makes me smile.

Now would be a good time.

"Sasuke..." I wait for his grunt of a response, "Tonight. I want you to... tonight."

"What?" He almost sounds groggy - stoned on my cum.

I swallow my trepidation, "Turn me. Make me like you."

He rolls over, the heavy veil of satiation lifting off his obsidian eyes, "No."

I prop myself up, "Please. I want to be with you."

"You are with me."

"No, I want to be with you... forever." No matter how many times I rehearse it in my head, it always comes out as such a weak plea.

He moves up the bed and straddles my chest, forcing me to lay back down. His eyes are hard, "You don't want to be like me."

"How do you know?" I argue.

His expression softens, becomes wistful and perhaps even a little regretful, "Because I don't even want to be like me."

"But I want to be with you!" I repeat with more fervor, as if that will make the statement any more convincing.

"Naruto..." he reaches down and combs his fingers through my hair, "if you become like me, we can never be together like this again. It won't ever be the same. Don't you like this?"

My obsitance is crumbling with each stroke of his fingers along my scalp, "Well... yeah. Of course. I love this. I love y-."

His fingers quickly press against my lips, halting my speech. Probably a good thing.

"I don't want to lose this." He leans down and replaces his fingers with his lips. He whispers against my mouth, "Our time together is precious."

I nod. I've lost this argument. Just like all the others. Then I feel his tongue peak past the seam of my mouth. _Fuck __it_. I wrap my arms around him and pull him in until my body is covered by his.

The kiss a collision of ravenous mouths and violent tongues. Clashing, sucking, lapping and nipping. I run the tip of my tongue against his canine, sliding it along the dagger point. He applies the slightest pressure, enough to scrape at my taste buds and cause me to shudder.

He trails his hand down my side and cups my hip, his thumb rubbing over the slight protrusion of bone. I spread my legs, beckoning for him to explore me further. Softly, his fingers glide down; tickling against my inner thigh and balls, brushing over my taint and slipping between my cheeks. My moan is swallowed by his mouth as I feel a teasing prod against my hole. I whimper when he pulls away, even though I know it means better things are about to come. Glorious things that will make me come.

Sasuke settles down between my legs, his dark eyes devouring my exposed sex. He brings his fingers to my mouth and I suck them shamelessly, making vulgar slurps as I swirl my tongue around the individual digits. His smile is subtle, but his gaze is lecherous.

Removing his hand, he hoists one of my legs up and holds it in place so that my hips are slightly elevated. He rotates me a few degrees, giving him a better view of my entrance. With a saliva-slicked finger, he strokes the pucker and I twitch excitedly.

Slowly he begins to explore; dipping the tip of his finger in and pulling at the wrinkled ring. He runs his finger along the inner edge and slips deeper, ever so briefly. The more he penetrates, the louder I moan; soft sighs grow to deep rumbling groans as he is soon knuckles deep inside me. Sasuke's long fingers rake at the tight walls, stretching them - readying me for his cock. I buck my hips against his hand, signalling to him that I'm ready. _God__, __am __I __ready_. He pulls out, lifts his hand to his face and spits on the open palm. I grab his wrist as he reaches for his dick.

"Let me." I command softly, rolling over and bringing my face to his lap.

I take up his length with reverence, tracing the thick, rolling veins with my fingertips. I have gone nearly eight months without the feel of his cock in my hands, I want to take time to savor this. With one hand I squeeze the base and stroke his velvety shaft, while the other hand cups his sac - rolling his balls leisurely. I descend gradually, absorbing every subtle nuance; the salty musk and the slight anticipatory twitch, the sumptuous feel of his flesh as my lips press against his tip. I take him in slowly, swirling my tongue and coating the length thoroughly. He jerks responsively and nudges into my palate. I gag, but don't stop. I can feel moisture gathering in my eyes and my mouth is watering, but I soldier on. I will my throat to relax - to wrap gently around him - as I terminate the journey down his length. When I pull back I make sure there is a sufficient coat of saliva left in the wake of my retreating mouth.

There is no need for words. I turn around, on my hands and knees, and offer myself to him. I feel the bed shift, then his warm hands are rubbing my cheeks, spreading me and exposing my hole.

"Ahhh!" I nearly squeal in surprise when I feel his tongue at my pucker - offering one last dose of lubrication.

He doesn't make an affair of the act but he laps a few times, rolling the slick muscle against the tight ring. Then the heat of his mouth is gone, replaced by a bulbous cockhead - seeking entrance. As he pushes forward my hole eagerly swallows his tip. It is almost embarrassing how desperately my body behaves - the way my muscles quiver and turn to jelly as he fills me... the wanton moans of relief and satisfaction that spill from my mouth by this simple action alone. He's not even fucking me yet - having just entered me - and already I'm hard and leaking.

He pulls back slowly - so slowly I can feel him catching on the bumps and ridges of my chute - and a sound so purely hedonistic claws out of my throat, that I bring a hand to my face. Then he is sliding in again with a little more fervor - enough that I can hear a faint clap of flesh on flesh. In and out again, slightly faster yet, and I bite my lip to keep the majority of my cries at bay.

The long, penetrative thrusts are punctuated with quick, jostling snaps of his hips. This rhythm could very well drive me crazy. Sasuke pumps into me swiftly, until I am clawing at the sheets and howling into the mattress, then he slows to a crawl - moving in and out of me in languid thrusts. The sharp spikes of pleasure and agonizing plateaus of ecstasy leave me whimpering - a heavy ache in my loins. He's wicked... and he knows it.

"Harder..." my voice trembles. _Good __God__, __was __that __me__?_ I sound so damn pathetic.

He obliges, pounding into me and burying his thick flesh deep inside my body. His thrusts are rapid and wild, causing me to cry out. I clutch onto the sheets as if they were the remnants of my sanity. I can hear him behind me; grunting and growling. He has a firm grip on my hips, his fingers biting into my flesh, as he slams my body against his.

I know he won't be able to maintain control. He never can. Try as he might, Sasuke always loses himself to his carnal nature. I wish I could see the moment he snaps; the haze of pleasure in his eyes will clear and reveal something dark and dangerous. Then he will begin to fuck me, not as the man he once was, but the creature he has become.

Suddenly I feel an exquisite, sharp pain. Sunk into the muscle connecting my neck and shoulder, are his teeth. His fangs. I squawk as his canines slide out and plunge back in again. He never stops thrusting - plundering my ass as he devours me. I lose control completely as I buck against him and moan wantonly. Through a thick veil of lust induced hysteria I hear myself cry out for more, despite the tears rolling down my cheeks. I can't take it and I can't get enough. The pleasure and pain are a maelstrom of sensation coursing through me.

I can feel thick, hot blood trailing down my body followed by his tongue greedily lapping it up. His lips move across my skin, sucking at my flesh. In this moment, the dynamic of our relationship is illuminated; his power over me and my complete submission to his will. I am a banquet of blood and pleasure. And that is exactly how I like it. I want him to ravish me - to use me and consume me. I only feel complete when I am penetrated by him - dick and teeth alike.

Sasuke pulls away, having licked up the last drops of blood oozing from my wounds. Without warning he pulls out and flips me roughly. I flop against the mattress as he lowers himself and drives back into me. I arch up reflexively and he grabs my hips, leaving my legs dangle on either side of his torso. He begins to pound into me, yanking me onto his shaft.

I look up at him and simper. His eyes are burning with desire and bloodlust, his mouth is smeared with crimson. He looks positively feral as he smiles back at me.

Tilting my hips, Sasuke slows his thrusts - now plowing me with purpose. His thick shaft moves in and out, brushing past my prostate and causing my eyes to roll back in my head as waves of pleasure lick up my spine. Gradually, he speeds up, until he is stabbing the sweet bundle repeatedly with his wicked, glorious cockhead. The screams released are deep and graveled - animalistic.

I claw at his arms until finally I am able to pull him down. I kiss him ravenously while he continues to thrust deeply. I can taste the copper tang of my blood and I start to lick his mouth, cleaning the stains around his lips and chin. It isn't my first time sampling my blood - we have done this many times before. In fact, and this is something I could never tell him, I have even cut myself in order to get a better taste. It isn't the same - it lacks the heady flavor of the blood consumed during sex.

He pulls back as I suck the last drops from his jaw and levels a scrutinizing glare. "Is that good?"

I lick my lips hedonistically, "Fuck yeah."

He lays me back down, but continues to roll his hips slowly. "You're serious aren't you? You really want me to turn you."

My eyes go wide and my heart begins to hammer even harder in my chest. My voice croaks from my throat, "Yes."

He leans down and whispers into my ear, "You aren't afraid to die?"

I try to answer but he has picked up his pace and the blistering pleasure of his powerful thrusts is too distracting. I manage to shake my head as staccato groans are jarred from my chest.

He lifts himself up, steadying his weight on his arms as he moves briskly in and out of me, "Then I'll show you what it's like to die."

His hands move to my chest, still bearing most of his weight. I can feel the air rushing from my compressed lungs and I draw longer, deeper breaths to compensate. Then a hand trails from my chest up to my collarbone and finally, wraps around my throat. He tightens his grip gently until I am gasping for air, then he squeezes a little more.

I grab onto his arm and struggle in vain to pull him away, but his preternatural strength cannot be matched by my weak flailing.

He never stops fucking me. In fact, it seems that the harder I fight him, the harder he slams into me. His gaze never falters, even as I gape soundlessly - mouthing futile pleas.

I'm feeling lightheaded, my vision is swimming in a suffocated haze. I do notice when he lifts his hand off my chest, and though the weight is gone I'm still not able to pull air into my lungs. His fingers trace down my stomach and it feels as if a thousand hands are on me.

Everything is going dark and eventually the only thing I can see through this tunnel vision are his eyes. The scarlet ribbons lacing through them seem to swirl and dance. It occurs to me that I should be scared, but I'm not. Truly, I'm not.

I feel his other hand wrap around my cock, gripping almost as hard as the one around my neck. The pleasure cuts through the murky haze of my asphyxiated mind. My eyes fly open and suddenly everything is bright and sharp.

He's fucking me. Choking me. Stroking me.

One last rush of adrenaline, before I pass out, has me arching off the bed. Before my body comes back down, he removes his hand from my neck. I gasp loudly, sucking in as much air as my lungs will allow. A few quick passes of his fist send me careening over the edge.

As oxygen returns, a tingling sensation erupts throughout my body, amplifying the surge of ecstasy as I come. Each pin prick is like an orgasm - as if every cell in my body is sharing in this climax. And every breath I heave causes another round. The pleasure is so agonizingly intense that I begin to cry - and not just a few leaking tears. I sob soundlessly until the sensation becomes bearable and I can once again open my eyes.

When my vision focuses, I see him watching me. My own crisis was so severe, I didn't even notice when he came. But as I look at him now - with his chest heaving and eyes shimmering with the dewy sheen of afterglow - I know he did.

I want to reach up to him, to touch his cheek and card my fingers through his hair... but I can't move. I feel completely boneless. Sasuke takes advantage of my incapacitated state and cleans me thoroughly - his tongue laving every inch of soiled skin. It tickles, but I can't do much more than whimper and shudder.

He lays down beside me and I gather enough strength to roll over and nuzzle into him, throwing an arm over his waist and resting my head on his chest. With the last drop of my energy I squeeze him and he responds, gently stroking my arm. We stay like that for some time. I listen to the lazy beat of his heart - much, much slower than any living creature - as it pumps my blood through his veins. And I finally, truly understand why he won't turn me.

It isn't because he doesn't want to be with me... it's because the bond we have forged would be forever broken. This is how we were meant to be. There is nothing else.

"I won't ask again," I murmur into the darkness.

His fingers halt their dance across my skin. There is a long pause before he whispers, "Thank you."

He pulls me up and I am able to support my weight on one arm. He cards his fingers through my hair, cups the back of my head and drags me into a deep kiss. His tongue swirls with mine slowly, then pulls back. He breaks the embrace and I blink my eyes open to find him staring at me intently.

"Just don't ever leave me for so long," I say with a small smile, "I need you too much."

He laughs, rich and velvety, then nods. He pulls me back onto his chest and continues to run his fingers through my hair. "Seven months _is _too long."

"Seven months, three weeks and two days."

* * *

**A/N 2: Thanks for indulging me in this experiment. Please let me know what you think!**

**A/N 3: Made a few small changes, thanks to some constructive reviews. Once again, feel free to critique if you see areas needing improvement. XD**


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